Normalized Relations
by WndrngY
Summary: Veronica is an undercover federal agent. Logan has joined the Sorokin crime syndicate. To get the information she needs, Veronica will do just about anything, including kill him if it comes to that.
1. Author's Note

**A NOTE TO ANYONE WHO HAD BEEN READING THIS STORY BEFORE I TOOK IT DOWN: **

**I am reposting this story because I've missed you all and you can't let the bastards of the world win, right? Just give me a little time because the process of reposting 23 chapters is tedious and time-consuming. I'll get them all up quick as possible. I've made some corrections and added a little warning to the dirty, theiving plagiarizers of the world. Hope you all still love it (and me). :D **

**To everyone who offered support, sympathy, encouragement and especially to bitch slap the plagiarizer if we could track her down--thank you from the bottom of my heart. And sorry for the big old temper tantrum. I'm reposting the story including the chapters I've added to it on Twilighted since taking it down from FF. **

**The other site did finally remove the plagiarizer's post, but I never did find out who she was or how to contact her. I recognize I'm taking a chance of it happening it again, but I agree with all of you who said how unfair it was that a few losers ruin the fun for all the rest of us! **

**A NOTE TO ANYONE WHO HAS NO IDEA WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT:**

**Please see the note below that I posted when I took the story down. **

I'm very, very sorry to do this, but I am at least temporarily taking my stories off of Fan Fiction because a person calling herself ShesGot_Spunk has copied and pasted two chapters of my story _Never Sleep in a Strange Man's Bed_, changing only the character names and locations, onto another site and claimed it as her own work. I'm so angry and hurt by this, I need to take some time to decide if I want to keep doing this.

For all of you who have been so kind and supportive of this story, I am aware how unfair this is to you and I'm so sorry. I'm just hoping maybe she hasn't downloaded and stolen the whole story yet and I can stop her this way.

If you know this person please tell her what a completely nasty, hateful thing she's doing. And if you have to slap her, I can't stop you, of course! 

I'm not giving the site name or the insipid title she came up with because I don't want her to get a bunch of story hits and have the webmaster over there refuse to take it down anyway. I have informed the webmaster that it's a plagiarized work so hopefully it will be taken down soon.

Please try to understand and give me a little time to think this whole thing over. I may be back and I want all of you have been so kind and respectful and fun to know how much I appreciate you all. I'm really sorry about this.

Paige


	2. Normalized Relations

**The characters and all things pertaining to Veronica Mars belong to Rob Thomas. ****The stories published under this account are the sole property of WndrngY. They may not be copied, published or posted elsewhere without my express written consent which I do not give at this time.**

**NORMALIZED RELATIONS**

**Part One**

She entered the bank, presented her documents to the manager, and was led down the marble floored hallway to the safety deposit box vault. She hoped irrationally that, somewhere deep down, the Logan who used to be would know she would never do this to him.

The Logan who existed now, however, was fair game. She had no problem screwing him to the wall. Figuratively, of course.

Veronica reached out through her connections that night and by early morning she received an untraceable text message: "Wilshire Beverly penthouse. 11pm."

_Okay Logan_, she thought, b_ut you're going to have to outgrow this hotel fetish sometime._

At 10:55 that night Veronica knocked three times. She didn't hear anyone approach the door from the other side, but it swung open after a few seconds and there he was: Legs crossed at the ankle, head leaning against the door jamb, grinning pseudo-bashfully, one hand stuffed into the front pocket of his olive chinos. _Combat colors_, she thought derisively, taking in the pants and the black, long sleeved t-shirt.

"'Ronica," he drawled in that mumbling, vibratory voice.

"Misanthrope," she countered pleasantly, walking into the over-priced, over-decorated hotel suite. She was outwardly relaxed and unconcerned, but she was ready—always ready—just as she knew he was.

The door shut with a resounding finality.

"Do you really want to start with the name calling? After all, I was a good boy. I did as you and your people requested and stayed out of your 'cross-hairs'. You fellas really do talk like a bad episode of, well, any spy show."

Veronica bared her teeth in what might pass for a smile, but said nothing.

"You requested this little clandestine meet-up Agent Butch Boots. What do you want? Or was this a personal invitation? Been strolling down memory lane, have we?" He approached her slowly, maintaining lazy, hooded eye contact.

"I have something you're going to want back, but I'm going to need something in return." She noted the position of his hands in her peripheral vision.

"What is it?" he clasped those hands under his chin and looked toward heaven. "Mash notes I wrote you in high school? The green shirt you stole from me? Your virginity? No wait, Duncan Kane still has that, I believe. Although," he leaned in so that his mouth was inches from her ear, "I made you come first."

"I have the tapes," she spat out. She didn't have to explain what tapes she meant.

"That's not possible," he said. He passed behind her and came back around, standing too close, forcing her to look up into his face. The teasing banter was gone and his face hardened into an expressionless mask. That was a new and dangerous talent.

"Anything is possible," she assured him silkily. "Don't you know that by now?"

In a flash, he grabbed her forearm and wrenched her around so he was behind her with her hand pressed against her shoulder blade.

"I had a…feeling you'd…react this way," she gasped. "So I took some…some precautions."

He let go and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender.

Massaging her aching shoulder, she took a seat in a tall, ornate, wing-backed chair.

"Anything happens to me, the tapes will be released for public consumption before you can say 'Here Lies Veronica'."

"You intend to keep lying in the afterlife?" Logan inquired smoothly. "I say let's go highbrow: 'Here Prevaricates Veronica'."

Letting it slide, she flexed her arm gingerly, "I'd compliment your skills, Lo, but since you have at least 80 pounds of muscle on me and I _let_ you do it…"

He gave an angry bark of laughter. "You think you could've stopped me?"

"I know I could, but that's not the point now is it? I'm sure you want the tapes back and I need intel on the drug shipment."

"Intel. There you go again with your secret agent lingo. It's childish, Ronnie. Makes you sound like a scared little girl, putting on a brave front. On second thought, go with that."

"Information, then. Detailed information: When exactly the drugs are coming in, where, how, etc, etc." Veronica was having no trouble masking her reactions to his barbs, because she wasn't having any. The current incarnation of Logan Echolls held no sway over her. If she didn't need him as an informant, she could have just as easily killed him and walked away.

He wagged a finger at her, grinning at her audacity, "You want me to be your snitch and get my tongue served to me on a baguette."

"Not if you don't get caught," she pointed out, shrugging. Frankly, if he did get caught and killed, so what?

He was getting close again and she watched him warily. He knelt in front of her, loosely hooking one finger behind the crook of her right knee which was crossed over her left leg. "Where are the tapes, Sugarpuss?"

"Safe."

He laughed softly, brought his bottom lip up over his top lip and huffed a breath of air upward making his hair ruffle slightly. Veronica knew what he was doing. He was channeling the old Logan, his mannerisms and pet names, trying to force her backward to a time when she was vulnerable. Well, let him think it was working. That could work to her advantage.

"You _are_ a badass. You always were. I'm not being facetious," he responded to the roll of her eyes. "You were a badass then, you are a bigger badass now. But isn't it funny how you could stare down bullies and madmen and even murderers, but you couldn't withstand something as simple as…"

His fingers lightly ran from behind her knee, up the back of her thigh, to lightly tease at the seam of her jeans. As he came up on his knees and leaned in to find _that_ spot on her neck, his hand became more insistent between her legs and she parted them slightly to give him better access. He licked a path from just behind her ear, back to the spot where her neck and collarbone met. She sighed and shivered, grinding against the friction he was creating with his hand. She felt him smile against her neck.

Logan sat back on his heels, mouth open, no doubt prepared to mock, but he found Veronica cool and composed and smirking slightly, one eyebrow raised, as if questioning whether he was done.

"Nice try, but a little juvenile," said the slender, but deceptively strong blonde. She leaned toward him and spoke softly in his ear, mocking his earlier attempt to make her blush. "You _were_ the first to make me come, Logan, but you weren't the last. I have found out over the years that, although you _are_ very good, you are not the only game in town. And your price is too high."

Logan grinned and shrugged, but there was something menacing there, just under the surface, "It was worth a shot. It would have been the most fun way to find out where my goddamn tapes are."

His hand shot out again, but Veronica was ready for him. She used her left leg to sweep his feet out from under him as he crouched and land him on his ass with a thud. Before he recovered his balance she caught him just under the chin with her left foot, knocking him onto his back as she came to her feet. Standing with enough weight on her left leg to greatly reduce his air supply, she smiled down at his quickly purpling face.

"Don't do it," she warned, as he reached for her leg. "You can easily throw me off balance, but then all my weight's going to come down on this foot and crush your windpipe. A hundred and ten pounds may not seem like much, but it is if it's standing on a hollow, flexible tube." She shifted slightly more weight onto his throat.

Logan lay, heaving breaths to get enough air, and did nothing, staring at her with an almost detached curiosity. She eased off his throat to let him breathe a little, as she pulled a heavy-duty plastic strip out of her pocket and leaned down to quickly bind his wrists before taking her foot off his neck completely and sitting back down in the chair.

She watched as he pulled himself smoothly into a seated position. He started to slide forward toward her, but stopped when she shook her head at him.

"Back up Logan," she warned, showing him a second plastic tie. "Or I can bind your ankles to your wrists for you, too. You might be thinking I couldn't do it, but how humiliating if you risk it and it turns out I can?"

He pushed off against the floor, sliding himself backward a few inches.

"Thank you. Now, I only tied your hands, because, as much as I hate to admit it, you could _conceivably_ physically overpower me and make this much more difficult than it has to be. Although, if I were you, I'd give up on emotionally or sexually overpowering me. It's a waste of your time and energy. Anyway, now maybe you'll actually listen for once."

"I was already listening Ronnie, but you haven't _said_ anything, yet." His voice was silky and calm, but his eyes were threatening retaliation.

She clucked her tongue at him as if he were a dense child. "See? Not really listening. I said: I have the tapes of Lilly Kane and your father, which you did not erase and, instead, placed in a safety deposit box at the main branch of Line & Anchor Bank. I will return them to you in exchange for information on the upcoming drug shipment," she enunciated clearly and loudly. "Was that clear enough?"

"What kind of information?"

"Don't play dumb. You know what I need."

"I thought I did. But apparently every other Tom, Dick and Harry does, too. That makes it less special for me," he feigned a heartbroken sigh.

Veronica got up and strode to the door, pausing with one hand on the knob, "Maybe you need some time to think it over. I'll be in touch."

She closed the door behind her and blew out a silent breath. That had gone a helluva lot better than it might have.

***

Veronica's house was her pride and joy. Not imposing or spectacular by the old 09er standards, but very definitely hers and her haven. It was a long, low, four bedroom, three bathroom ranch, with a Spanish tile roof (the staple of southern California architecture) and white stucco exterior walls, tucked in the foothills and set well back from the road. The windows were large and plentiful and paned with bulletproof glass, and the heavy oak double front doors were steel reinforced and hinged with industrial grade wrought iron. It didn't show up on any public records or rolls thanks to the agency and it boasted a state of the art security system that was virtually undetectable and impenetrable. Veronica was safe at home.

As she pulled her black RX7 into the garage and shut the steel-core overhead doors with a satisfyingly solid, metal sound, she thought about the first time her dad had come to see her house.

"_My daughter the Fed," he had crowed, as he always did. A huge grin spread over his face, "Doing pretty well for herself, huh?" He grabbed her in a big bear hug and swung her around the as-yet empty living room. "You earned this, kid. You deserve it and so many more good things in life."_

Because it was difficult to do her job well when her focus was split, Veronica didn't see her dad and Alicia and Darrell as much as she or they would've liked. Wallace kept his connection to her open, in spite of her occasional resistance, but he was often out of town or even the country with his engineering firm. He was currently dating someone 'special', but then he usually was. She still saw Mac now and then when she needed computer related assistance. Mac worked for a government think tank and was cleared for most of the work Veronica needed done, even if she didn't get all the details on why she was being asked to do it. They didn't get as personal as they once had, probably just because they were out of practice, but Veronica knew she and Max had split up a year or so ago. Other than those five people, she had no contact with anyone from her past and that suited her more than fine_._

When she had checked messages, put away her bag in the safe and her gun in the lockbox, Veronica stripped down and got into the shower. Not until the warm water hit her, did she let her mind wander back to those couple of minutes Logan had his hands and his mouth on her. She had felt nothing at the time, because she had learned well how to shut her mind to anything but the task at hand. And because she wouldn't let him win. But now, she let herself experience the moment again without the mental block, as if he meant to make her feel good, as if he was still the Logan she had loved and mourned.

Bracing herself against the cool tile and letting her hand trail down between her legs, she let herself go. She relived everything that happened today, some of the hottest memories of times past with Logan, and what she wished could happen if her life _and he_ had turned out different. She let herself be loud, she let herself put an abandoned, guttural voice to her frustrations and fears and her desires and her pride along with her release.

Veronica took her time brushing her teeth, covering herself in her favorite body lotion, combing deep conditioner into her hair before twisting it up and pinning it. She wrapped herself in a big fluffy towel as the steam began to dissipate and the room cooled off.

She screamed when she stepped into her bedroom and a dark figure was sitting on her bed. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this level of terror; the last time she had let her guard down enough to be surprised by anything.

"You didn't actually say 'Logan', but I think I heard it just the same," Logan's voice spiraled out of the darkness and into her befuddled consciousness. He struck a match and lit a cigarette, the flame temporarily illuminating his face like the devil he was.

Angry and terrified, Veronica did what she always did, closed off her emotions and went on the offensive. Stalking across the room she snatched the cigarette from between his lips, pinched it out with her fingertips and flicked it into the trash can.

"Afraid I'll get tongue cancer and not be able to do this?" he asked lazily, parting her towel and lowering his lips and then his tongue to her bare stomach.

Veronica stepped back out of the reach of his hands and his tongue. Unfortunately, he held onto her towel and she found herself standing before him utterly naked and defenseless against his gaze. Even in the half-dark, this wasn't a comfortable place to be. She forced herself to move nonchalantly, casually, to her closet where she pulled a navy terry cloth robe off the hook on the back of the door and pulled it around herself, tying the sash as if it were an afterthought.

"A healthy fantasy life is good for the mind and the body. As long as you draw a line between fantasy and reality."

"And you draw that line at me?"

"You drew that line a long time ago. When you decided to join the Sorokins instead of beating them."

"I beat one of them once. For you," he reminded her in a low, growling voice. She wished she could see his face. But she was glad he couldn't see hers.

"For me," she repeated and let it stand between them. She was sure Logan didn't know how to take it, for he said nothing. Unusual for him. "Is that the one who calls you brother now? The one who helps you disappear the bodies? How does Gory feel about being replaced by you as his father's favorite?"

Discreetly, she had crossed to the lockbox still sitting on her bedside table, and opened it . When she turned back to Logan, she made sure he saw the glint of steel as she tucked the gun into the pocket of her robe. He acknowledged the action with a slight nod and a smirk, but said nothing.

"How did you get into my house Logan?"

He chuckled. "Haven't you heard? I've got friends in low places."

"The Russian mob doesn't have access to my house. I specified that in my security plans."

"I didn't say anything about them. I do know other criminals. We went to high school with most of them?" His tone said '_Ringing any bells, Mars?'_

"How did you get into my house Logan?" she gritted out through her teeth.

"Like I'm going to tell you. So you can fix the obvious flaw in your security plan? What if I want to sneak in some night and make your wet dreams come true?"

"What do you want?"

"You. And the tapes. In that order. And then I'll give you the dirt on Lev and the whole lovable, rascally gang."

Her stomach clenched and she wanted to lay down, curl up in the fetal position. She never let herself get rattled. It was dangerous. It was what would get her killed. And Logan Echolls in her house, alone with her, no one aware that she had even made contact—that was what would get her killed quicker.

"Are you considering my counter offer?" he asked, delight sounding in his voice.

"What offer? Spell it out for me."

"Ooh. You always did like the dirty talk," he had come over to her and moved behind her. He lowered his voice and leaned into her ear, but didn't touch her. "Okay: Let me touch your naked body. Let me lick your neck, suck at your tender places. Let me make you feel for real what you were pretending in the shower to get yourself off. Let me be inside you, Veronica. Like I used to be. Like you still want me to be. And then…you give me my tapes back and I will give you the info you need on the Sorokins."

"So, you get sex with me _and_ the tapes and all I get is the information? How is that fair?" she turned to face him, taking a step back and keeping her hand on the gun in her pocket.

He stepped forward, closing the gap she had made. She could see his face now, but his expression was hooded. "Cruel. Cruel. But I don't care. You don't even have to pretend to like it. But I think maybe you'll have to pretend not to."

"What's the matter Logan? Can't seem to get laid these days? Is the world having a shortage of brain-dead bimbos willing to suck off evil-doers? I really should keep better informed."

"No shortage of easy lays," he assured her. "But I always liked the difficult ones better. Victory tastes sweeter when you have to work for it, don't you think?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had to coerce someone into sleeping with me. Is that what you call a victory? Hmmm."

He laughed and she felt it low in her belly. That was bad. She concentrated on blocking out everything superfluous to the achievement of her goal; getting the drug shipment logistics.

"That's cute," Logan said. " You're trying to hurt my feelings. But, no. I had those removed, along with my heart and my conscience. Damn things kept getting infected." His voice became bitter at that last dig and his eyes glinted dangerously. He reached out and toyed with a long, damp lock of her hair, watching his fingers as he spoke more softly, in a bemused tone, "Unfortunately, there was one more major organ, infected with the same disease, that I couldn't seem to part with."

His hand slipped behind her neck and pulled her mouth up to his, instead of bending down to her. She expected him to be rough, to try to hurt her and turn her on at the same time, but he surprised her again. The kiss lingered and drew out, but never got harder or more demanding. It was sweet, almost chaste, if it hadn't been for the underlying current of barely restrained violence. But that was mostly coming from her. His mouth trailed along her jaw line, to her ears, along her neck, until he was pushing her robe off her shoulders.

"Uncle?" he asked her, giving her the chance to back out.

She reached down and untied her robe, flinging it off defiantly, but keeping the gun in her right hand, pointed away from them. He glanced askance at the gun, shaking his head as if she was being ridiculous, but then he ignored it, his hands exploring her exposed breasts. He watched Veronica's face. She didn't look turned on. She looked pissed off, but he felt her body pulling toward his like a magnet.

His hand slid between her legs without preamble and she was as wet as he had known she would be.

"How do you know I'll keep my word?" he whispered to her.

"How do you know I'll keep mine?" she answered, keeping her hands at her sides and struggling to keep her composure as he manipulated her body, the heel of his hand creating pressure, friction.

"Ah. Stalemate. I see, well, I guess we'll have to trust each other."

He walked her backward to the bed and let her fall back onto it without him. He waited for her whimper, her complaint, her demand, but there was nothing. She looked bored.

Logan smiled determinedly, almost grimly, as he lowered himself to her, reclaiming her mouth, continuing that insistent but not aggressive kiss. She felt her muscles clench and her body tighten in anticipation. She was waiting for him to abandon his slow seduction and become crude and rough. But he didn't.

She couldn't stop her body's betrayal at the touch of his hands and mouth, but she never made a sound, didn't let him see her face show what her body was making obvious anyway. Until she let her eyes close for a fraction of a second and suddenly he was lifting her. Her eyes flew open, but he was only laying her on the pillows, pulling the covers up and sliding her under them before sitting himself down next to her on top of the covers.

Veronica was confused. She clutched the cold metal of the nearly forgotten gun under the covers. Logan was still dressed, she was naked. He had stayed in control, she was a quivering mass of nerves. He was leaving and she was staring at him stupidly, thinking about shooting him.

"I can't quite tell if you're into this," he said softly, stroking the side of her face, "and I'd hate to be accused of sexual coercion. Maybe you need some time to think it over. I'll be in touch."

And with a smirk that screamed 'Gotcha!', he was gone. She heard him reset her alarm code and then walk out, shutting the door firmly behind him. He had her fucking alarm code.

Veronica wiped her hand over her face and took a deep, shuddering breath.

**Part Two**

Three hours. That's how long it took to get called in after she filed her report. She knew the consequences would be swift and severe, but three hours had to be some kind of record.

Her cell had chirruped cheerfully as she sat in traffic on the 405 and she had answered it without hesitation, not dreaming that her report would have already traveled through channels, been read, discussed and acted upon.

"35690RGB. You're to come in today. Immediately," the clipped female voice relayed the message from Veronica's handlers without preamble.

"I'm stuck in traffic," she snarled. "I'll be there ASAP."

She was met with silence. Fighting the urge to get huffy, she tried again in a more professional tone, "45923RQD. I'll be there within an hour."

Dial tone.

Veronica terminated the connection and set her phone down on the seat beside her. Telling herself she didn't care, that she could defend her actions, she nonetheless had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was unfamiliar territory after all this time. The training she had gone through and three years of field work had honed her ability to reason and react in almost any situation. She rarely doubted herself, especially professionally.

It had been like coming home when the agency recruited her. The FBI had been her dream, but the reality was a million bureaucratic rules and regulations and more paperwork than field work. But then she got the call that changed everything. As far as anyone, including most of her colleagues, knew, Veronica was still your garden variety FBI special agent, but in reality she operated with far more autonomy and scope for creative problem solving.

Except, apparently, when it came to Logan Echolls. She had been told two years before, in no uncertain terms, to strike him from her list of viable contacts related to the Sorokins. At the time she had been attempting to infiltrate the family, while Gorya Sorokin was confirmed out of the country. She thought her identity was safe without Gory around, until she came face to face with Logan at a "family" dinner in a downtown restaurant. She was there as Cerise, the girlfriend of one of the first cousins. She was in disguise, but Logan had known her immediately. He had marked her for unwanted attention from the whole family by becoming drunk and hitting on her blatantly and in very ungentlemanly terms. Lev himself, had taken Logan aside for a talking to, but everyone stared at Veronica suspiciously and resentfully the rest of the night. Close knit family of Russian good fellas? If there was trouble involving a woman, she brought it on herself.

Veronica had been stunned and furious. Logan Echolls had been missing for nearly six years, disappeared off the face of the earth. She had thought he was dead, or hanging in Australia with Duncan Kane, or, hell, anywhere to get away from her, but she never considered for a second that he might have decided to join the Russian mafia and become a son to their version of the godfather, a brother to the guy who had humiliated her and threatened to kill Logan.

In the small hours of that next morning two years ago, Veronica had been woken by a text message: "You're alive for old time's sake. Stay away from the family or I'll make sure they know exactly who you are."

She had protested to her handlers. How could Logan tell them without having to explain why he didn't tell them that night? The family was very aware of the way Logan and Gory met at Hearst and that Logan had beaten Gory to a bloody pulp, defending his ex-girlfriend's honor. It was only through Jake Kane's intervention, at Duncan's behest, that Logan hadn't been murdered in retaliation. God knows what led to Logan's ingratiation with them later. At any rate, Logan couldn't compromise her without compromising his position within the family.

But the order had been direct and specific. Stay away from Logan Echolls and abandon the direct approach in investigating the Sorokins. Her work would entail planting bugs, surveillance and identifying the outlying players surrounding the crime syndicate.

***

Approaching Mickelson's office, Veronica expected two men and a woman with stern faces and judgment at hand and that's what she got. Once she was seated, facing the three of them, she got something more she had most definitely _not _expected..

Mickelson stood and opened an interior door and ushered in Logan Echolls.

Veronica's blood pressure shot up and every aggressive instinct screamed at her to whip the .38 out of her shoulder holster and put a hole in his head right between those mocking eyes. She carefully met each pair of eyes in the room face-on and waited for an explanation. She concentrated on lowering her heart and respiration rates.

"Agent Mars, would you explain why you reached out to Agent Echolls two days ago, after you were instructed never to do so two years ago?" Agent Mickelson queried.

Eyes turning slowly to Logan, finding him with head bowed, hands in pockets, she processed the question.

"Agent Echolls," she repeated dully.

"Deep undercover, but yes, _Agent_ Echolls. And you have nearly compromised his cover for the second time," Agent Durkey accused.

Veronica felt betrayed and humiliated and foolish. She was caught off guard, playing a sloppy game and getting burned.

Agent Durkey continued, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table in front of her. "And it is our understanding that you have something that belongs to Agent Echolls, which you obtained illegally and are refusing to return."

"With all due respect, I have been 'obtaining things illegally' for this agency for three years now without any reprimand," Veronica answered coolly. From the corner of her eye, she caught a smirk on Logan's face. She blocked his presence completely out .

"True as far as it goes, but those were assignments given to you by this agency. You went out and did this on your own authority, against direct standing orders," Agent Warbeck intoned gravely.

"In the course of my ongoing investigation, I learned that Mr. Echolls has moved up in the hierarchy and is in the confidence of Dmitri Corsokov and Lev Sorokin himself. Every indication points to a significant drug shipment expected within weeks. By the time we decipher all the verbal codes in their recorded conversations, it could be too late. So I bypassed the covert approach and contacted Mr. Echolls. I knew I'd need leverage to insure his cooperation, so I took something I knew he would want back."

Even to herself, Veronica sounded robotic with an edge of petulance. She saw the surprise in her superiors' faces and cursed herself for letting Logan get under her skin this much. The only thing she hated more than Logan Echolls was being bested by him in any arena.

"You should have brought your findings before us and requested permission to contact him," Agent Mickelson said blandly. But he was trying to telegraph something else to her with his eyes. He was the one who had targeted her for recruitment. Finding her proved to be one of his proudest accomplishments, as she was an exemplary and highly efficient asset who had never let her personal life interfere with her work—except where Logan Echolls was concerned. Mickelson didn't want to see his protégé self-destruct.

"Yes sir," Veronica managed with a respectful tone.

"And you will return the stolen property within 48 hours," Agent Warbeck added.

"Yes sir," Veronica repeated, her mind racing.

"Agent Echolls, you can go. Your property will be returned," Warbeck said.

Veronica didn't indicate that she heard the last order or Logan leaving the room.

"And there will be no further contact with Agent Echolls for any reason without the express direction of this panel," Agent Warbeck continued. "You can go."

Veronica stood and crossed to the door.

"Mars?" Agent Durkey called, just as Veronica's hand turned the knob.

"Yes ma'am?"

"The stolen property is not to be duplicated in any way, shape or form and, if it is seen by _anyone_, your work with this or any other intelligence agency is finished. Are we clear?"

Veronica turned and made eye contact with a calm and almost indifferent expression. "Clear."

***

Veronica wasn't surprised to find him in her house this time. But Logan was surprised when she came up behind him as he sprawled on her couch watching a football game and placed her taser against the back of his neck.

"Give me another reason," she hissed as he started to rise.

"Ronica," he said, placatingly.

"Misanthrope," she returned without taking the taser from his neck.

His hand shot up and locked around her wrist. "Go ahead, you'll send fifty thousand volts through both of us," he was laughing at her. So angry her line of vision was becoming hazy and red, Veronica pulled the trigger.

When Veronica came to, Logan was already up and sitting back on the couch holding his head in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. He was bigger, he could recover from a whopping dose of electrical voltage a lot faster. He heard her stirring and looked over.

"Bitch," he said, but he was smiling.

She wasn't there yet. She cast her eyes around for the taser even before she had full use of her limbs again.

Logan stopped smiling. "Geez Veronica. You're like an animal. Is there a voice running on a loop through your head, going, 'Kill. Kill. Kill.'?" He held up the taser for her to see and then threw it on the coffee table, disgusted.

Stretching carefully and flexing her fingers and toes, she slowly got up and pulled herself into a chair.

"I don't need prompting," she assured him.

"Makes no difference that we're on the same side?"

"Only that I could go to prison for killing a federal agent instead of getting a citation for taking out a mobster."

"Don't hold back Ronnie." He kept his gaze on the TV screen and sipped from his beer, intending to wait her out. Ten minutes later, she still hadn't spoken.

"What happened to you Veronica?" he finally asked, eyes still on the screen. "You're good at what you do, no doubt, but you're like a machine. When's the last time you smiled because you were happy and not because it fit your cover?"

When she didn't answer, he looked over and saw that her head was lolled over the arm of the chair, her eyes slightly open and rolled back. Her limbs were loose and at odd angles.

Logan shot off the couch and was in front of her, checking her pulse, calling her name. She brought one of her "butch" boots up between his legs and dropped him to the floor, writhing in pain. She stood over him, watching his face go from red to purple.

"I'm smiling now, asshole. That's for your sick little game last night. I'm still deciding what to do to you for letting me think you were dead for six years or for making me wish you were for the last two. I'd keep your distance and watch your back, Echolls."

She was halfway across the room when he dragged enough air into his lungs to call her name.

"What?" she spat, without turning around.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, pulling himself to his knees.

She hesitated and cursed herself for it. Finally, she crossed to her kitchen to get him an ice pack out of the freezer while he dragged himself back onto the couch. Coming back into the living room, she dropped it in his lap.

"Son of a bitch!" Logan bit off the curse with a groan.

"Daughter of a sheriff," she corrected.

He laughed weakly, his face looking pale and sweaty now. "Hey, just so you know, the poetic justice is not being lost on me here." He indicated the ice pack on his crotch.

She smiled, grudgingly, before she caught herself. "Yeah. You know, you live by the sword…"

Again, he waited for her to jump in and start grilling him, analyzing him, defending herself. But she remained quiet, watching.

"I can't get over how much you've changed, Veronica. When I saw you two years ago, you were tougher than ever, but still, I saw _you_ shining through the act. Not anymore. Your cover is…perfect."

"You want me to be offended by that? Insist that I'm still same Veronica deep down inside? My act? My cover? No such things. This is who I am now and I'm proud of that fact. Now, _your_ psychotic-jackass-all-grown-up-with-access-to-automatic-weapons—that's an Oscar-worthy act. If it's really an act."

He nodded acceptance of her accolades, ignoring her dig. "It's surprisingly easy to play the part of a heartless psychopath with a taste for violence. Almost like I had a role model."

She didn't flinch at his reference to Aaron. No sympathy or understanding flickered in her steady blue gaze. She shook her head twice. "I put all that away a long time ago, Logan. I'm sorry if you haven't."

"You really would have leaked those tapes, wouldn't you?" The suspicion solidifying for him, that this new Veronica hadn't been bluffing.

That night in the Wilshire Beverly hotel, he had been genuinely infuriated when she told him she had the tapes. She had guessed that he couldn't destroy them and that he wouldn't keep them in his home. She had managed to track them down, when he thought they were untraceable, and take them from a bank he had considered utterly secure. The levels on which she knew him and the lengths she would go to in order to bring him under her control, made him want to hurt her. But again, she had come out on top and left him handcuffed in his own hotel suite, ruminating. He found himself wondering if she would really go so far as to leak the tapes and decided she wouldn't. That's when he decided to have a little fun with her. Now that he knew she would've done it, he felt sick beyond the nausea that comes with a heavy boot to the balls.

"Only if I had to, in order to win the game," she shrugged slightly. "Stop looking at me like I'm a monster, Logan. I do what I have to so that the good guys win in the long run. Just like you. Don't tell me you haven't had to get your hands dirty for the Sorokins in order to win their trust? Hell, the way they've welcomed you into the fold, I assumed you were the one that hit Sasha the Snitch just before the trial that was supposed to put Lev away for life."

The hard, defiant look on his face confirmed her theory even before he spoke. "It was going to be cutting off the head of the dragon. There were plenty of new ones ready to grow into its place. The agency didn't want it to happen that way, so they sanctioned the hit on Sasha to solidify my cover. I didn't enjoy it."

"I wouldn't have enjoyed releasing those tapes if you had forced my hand," she countered.

"You don't see a difference? Given our history?" He knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was a tactical error.

The grim, malicious smile that had become her most common facial expression, at least when dealing with him, snapped into place.

"Our long, convoluted, painful, pitiful history? Well, I'll give you this: If I thought you were still the boy I last saw in the Hearst cafeteria, wiping Gory Sorokin's blood on his shirt like a badge of honor, I would never have tracked down the tapes, much less stolen them and threatened you with releasing them. But you're not, even if you aren't really a vicious criminal either. I don't owe anything to whoever you are. And, for that matter, you don't owe anything to me."

Logan stared at her, a little horrorstruck at the tone in her voice and the words cutting through him.

"I…did this for you," he blurted out and wanted to rip his tongue out. Something he had sworn to himself he would never say out loud. He ran one of his hands over his hair nervously, unknowingly infuriating Veronica even further with the endearing habit.

"I figured," she said dismissively, a hard edge behind it. "I had a lot of time to think on the way home from my ass-chewing. It didn't take long to get from 'how' to 'why' to Gory taping me and Piz and spreading it over the internet for the world to see. It touched a nerve for you didn't it, because of Lilly and all?"

He couldn't talk. He had dropped his façade, with an overwhelming feeling of relief, as soon as he knew that she knew the truth. He assumed that she would do the same when they were alone and he couldn't wait to talk to her, to explain everything. He knew she was going to be pissed, but he assumed she would also be relieved, maybe eventually happy. But she was vicious; angrier than ever.

"So you changed your name, changed schools, joined the agency somewhere along the line and resurfaced ready to make someone pay. How's that working for you Logan?" She stood up suddenly and walked away, Logan following her with a slight limp.

"What?"

"You have a family? A girlfriend? Normalcy of any kind? With everything you grew-up with and lived through, do you think I'm happy that you threw any chance at a normal life away for my sake? Still not impressed Logan."

"I am not trying to impress you," he ground out the words as rage filled his ears with the pounding of his blood. "I never had a shot at the kind of life you wanted for me, Veronica. You know that, if you're honest with yourself. I was never going to be the hearth-and-home-and- kiddies-to-tuck-in type. I would've destroyed that life and taken down the whole neighborhood while I was at it. I have a good life now. I'm doing something important with it, which is more than almost anyone ever would've expected of me. I don't need you to be impressed."

Veronica really looked at him, finally, and saw the truth behind his words. He was right. She had wanted him to find the happy family life he had never had, but she had never been able to picture him in that life. It just didn't fit.

Just like she had wanted that life for herself, but could not make herself stand in the pictures she painted in her mind. She may or may not have been born to live a normal life, but eventually, through nature or nurture or too many run-ins with murderers and rapists and moral degenerates of all shapes and sizes, she realized she wasn't going to be normal. Ever.

"Good," was all she said to Logan. "So what now? Why am I being let in on your cover?"

"Wait. Veronica, about last night…"

"Drop it."

They stood in the entryway near the front door and the hallway that lead to her bedroom.

"No. It _was_ a sick thing to do especially—" he stopped when he saw the look on her face that read: Detour, dangerous territory, go around. "Listen, my assignment has been indefinite from the start. The agency wants the whole infrastructure to come down around the Sorokin family's ears. It's long term, deep cover, and I had no indication that you would be brought in under any circumstances. So I had to sell my cover to you, especially; let you hate me, pretend I hated you. It wasn't that hard after all, I _have_ hated you at times and the few times we saw each other it was easy to react to your hatred of me. After a while, the edges get pretty blurred, you know? But last night, I took advantage of an opportunity…to keep my cover and maybe …get to be with you again, just once."

"And that was okay with you, on those terms? Even though I hated you and didn't want to want you?"

"No," he said, smiling bitterly. "I tried to let it be okay, but it wasn't. That's why I left."

"And here I thought you left to humiliate me," she countered, coldly.

"Aw Ronnie, were you humiliated? I didn't know you cared," he said sarcastically, beginning to get angry.

"Logan, do you know how many men I've been with in the past two years?"

"No," he said, thrown off by the abrupt and unexpected shift. "And I really don't want to know."

"Two," she said succinctly.

"Two guys? At the same time, at least?"  
"Two different guys at two different times—spaced more than a year apart."

"Holy shit! No wonder you were in the shower for so long," he whistled. He couldn't help the lascivious grin on his face. And what did she expect, opening her sex life up to him?

"Yeah. I spend most of my time tracking down men who need to be cuffed in the back of a transport, not to my headboard." Logan's eyebrows shot up, but the grin never left his face. This frankness was another new thing about Veronica: She didn't used to discuss sex openly, hardly ever, even during.

"And what do I say to any normal guy?" she continued. "Hey honey, I killed a man with a well-placed boot to the larynx today, what did you do?"

"You do love those fucking ugly boots don't you?"

"They serve a purpose."

"So," Logan cautiously moved toward her. "Why are you telling me the tales of your pitiful sex life Veronica?"

"I want you to be clear that my reaction to you was a lot more about my general need than you in particular." Looking into his eyes, she saw the wall come back up. She was backing him up, pissing him off. Now she'd go for the jugular and end this mess before they both got killed or burned by the agency. "And I thought you might want to help me out."

"By finding you a guy? I'll see what I can do, but most of my single friends are mobsters these days," he warned sardonically.

"Stop. This is a time limited offer and comes with a few rules."

"Let's hear 'em."

"No pet names, no endearments, no cuddling after, and no talking about it or referring to it ever. Just sex, a one-time deal."

She moved to meet him where he stood. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply, and she feared her plan had backfired, at the same time she enjoyed the contact.

But the next moment he put his hands on her hips, pushing her gently, but firmly away.

"Not going to happen, Veronica Mars. Besides the fact that you definitely put me out of commission for today? You're horny as hell, but you don't particularly want _me_? I can't express any kind of affection for you and we will never speak of it again?" he shook his head. "Talk about sick. I can't agree to those terms, Ronica. I'd rather never see you again than that."

Veronica went to the front door and held it open, "Well, let's see if we can make your way work then. Good-bye Logan."

"Be seeing you Veronica," he said as he crossed the threshold.

"Not if I see you first," she quipped blithely. as she swung the heavy door closed.

When he was gone, she slid down the door and sat on the cool slate floor, contemplating. He _was_ her Logan. He wouldn't accept meaningless sex from her; he would be dogged in trying to prove to her that she wanted more, too, that they belonged together. It would start all over again and this time the stakes really were life and death, instead of teenaged delusions of life and death.

***

Veronica was as good as her word. Logan couldn't find her for the next three weeks. He continued to go to her house, taking the fact that she hadn't changed the code as a sign that she wanted him to come back. He tried to find out through the agency where she had gone, but was told essentially to keep his mind on his assignment, not Agent Mars.

***

Logan followed the directions Lev had given him in a terse phone call half an hour before. Mastering his nerves and trying not to think, "I hate this part!", Logan wondered what horrors might await him. When Lev called and said, "Get here now" and fired off an address, horror almost certainly awaited. A couple of bodies to be disposed of, pain to inflict, cooperation to ensure one way or the other, and, once, murder to commit. The only thing that made it bearable or doable was that he was dealing with other criminals just as vicious. The case could be made that they deserved what they got.

Wheeling the ice blue Mercedes into the lot running along a row of warehouses, Logan found the right one and parked. He walked quickly and confidently inside the dim building, his persona slipping into place easily and automatically.

"Lev? Lev? It's Logan."

"Back here," Lev instructed and Logan followed the sound of his voice to a screened off area. He heard a slight scrape and a low, broken moan. Oh god. It was a woman…

Of course it was Veronica. If he was going to live a nightmare, why not make it the worst one possible? She was bound hand and foot to a metal straight-backed chair, with a gag in her mouth and bruises and cuts on her exposed arms and face and neck.

"I understand you know this young lady…intimately," Lev said, standing behind Veronica and watching Logan's face.

"Oh _my_," Logan said, a delighted grin lighting up his face. "Yes, once upon a time I was very familiar with Miss Veronica Mars. Can't say I was looking to get reacquainted, though. What's she doing here?"

"That's what you're gonna find out," Lev told him. "Unless you'd rather I get Gory on this one?"

Logan considered the possibility. "Well, as much as I think Gory'd appreciate the opportunity for a little payback, I think I owe Miss Mars much more. This is gonna be fun, eh Ronnie?" he put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her swollen, marked face up to the light.

"She was in my home, she got into my safe. I want to know if she transmitted anything to anyone else."

"Consider it done, Lev."

The long agonizing wait as he listened to Lev's footsteps sounding across the long warehouse floor, nearly killed him. When the heavy door slid shut with a resounding, echoing clang, he went down on his knees, examining her injuries, exclaiming over her bravery and her toughness. When he reached for the restraints on her ankles, she hissed at him, "Are you crazy? Don't!"

He reeled back, dazed and yet terrified he knew what she meant even as he asked why the hell not.

"Don't be an ass, Logan. If you make all of this for nothing, I really will kill you."

"You let this happen on purpose?" his voice was faint with a completely unexpected horror.

She glared at him fiercely, in spite of a severely swollen left eye, "I do what I have to do. You need to tell Lev to let Gory interrogate me."

"_You're_ fucking crazy! Gory will kill you, Veronica. He won't tell you anything or ask you anything, he'll just murder you and apologize to his dad for getting carried away."

"No, he won't. I'll give him enough to worry about so he can't kill me until he knows everything. And he doesn't have to tell me anything. You give me the information I need, and then I make Lev believe Gory told me."

Waiting for his next objection or outburst, Veronica readied her next counter attack. But when she looked at him, he was looking off in the distance with a calculating stare.

"What is it?" she prompted.

"They gave Gory false information on the shipment coming in next."

"What!?"

"Gory and three others actually. They think somebody is leaking information either intentionally or just being big-mouthed and stupid. But they narrowed it down and fed them false information to see if anything came of it. Lev told me the plan, but not the false information he was giving them."

Her face fell for a moment.

"So, I had to find it out the Veronica Mars way. Digging." He pantomimed shoveling something over his shoulder.

"Logan…" she breathed.

"I know. I can give you the false info, Lev kills Gory when he finds out he's the weak link, then they relax, thinking all is taken care of and the feds bust them with the drug shipment."

As soon as he finished, she saw his expression change and she knew he was thinking of what she would have to endure at Gory's hands in order to make the plan work.

"Logan, look at me. I know it looks bad, but I'm fine. I can take this. It's part of what we do, right? This is the only way to bring this to an end now."

"It doesn't have to be now," he argued.

"Yes, it does. You're slipping up. You almost untied me and let me go and that would've been your death sentence. I know you've been looking for me—you haven't been discreet about it. And I know you know we are under orders from our agency not to see each other for any reason.

"Listen, we end them now, or we die, because the Sorokins will kill us if they find out we work for the government or the agency will burn us if they find out we're defying direct orders and it will be open season on both of us for the Sorokins or anyone else with an ear to the ground and an ax to grind."

"You forced my hand to protect me?"

"And _me_, conceited. Now call Lev. Tell him you can't do it. Too much history, whatever. Just do it."

He kept eye contact with her the whole time he spoke to Lev. She winced, visibly when he raised his voice after a long pause, "I've never asked you to let me off the hook Lev, but I'm asking now! There's too much history with her! And if I start, I'm _going _to kill her! I can't do anything halfway with this woman…"

Seconds later he flipped the phone shut. "Gory's on his way."

She nodded in acceptance.

"I love you," he blurted out, feeling panic rising in his chest.

"Logan…"

"No, goddammit! That's not the right answer! How can you still not know the answer to this? You're going to die in less than half an hour and you still can't say it? Fucking lie to me, if you have to Veronica, but _please tell me you love me_!"

He was on his knees, his hands gripping her knees painfully. He laid his head in her lap as he choked out the last six words.

"Logan, you have to calm down. Pull yourself together before he gets here," she crooned anxiously, straining to free her arms, in spite of herself, so she could hold him and reassure him for just a moment. "Listen, to me. Even if it's true, I'm not going to say it now. It would be admitting to you that I'm going to die and I'm not. When this is all over, then I'll tell you how I feel about you. Until then, grow a pair and go meet Gory at the door. Tell him I hinted that I had sent some scans of documents to someone I work for."

She only meant to buck him up a bit, make him angry enough to fuel his determination and pride. Keep him alive. But she overshot and sent him into full-on desperate rage.

"Fuck you, Veronica!" he stood up abruptly, pushing away from her as if touching her burned. "If you can't say it now I don't want to hear it. Good luck today. I'll do my part."

Listening to his footsteps trace the path Lev had tread earlier, she closed off to his pain and anger and her fear that she had ended the faint glimmer of hope for them in the future. Mentally, she prepared for the coming confrontation with Gory Sorokin.

***

When Gory's body was given to him to dispose of, Logan did so by rote, grateful only that he hadn't been asked to kill him. He had felt a detached kind of sympathy for Gory as he had gotten to know him: A boy afraid of his vicious father, yet craving his approval as a man. And yet, it hadn't changed the fact that Gory was a sadistic, monstrous person and needed to die sooner than later for the rest of the world's sake.

Two days later, when the raid took place at the dock, Logan slipped away after a for-show arrest and rushed to the warehouse where Veronica was still held captive, now tied to a filthy old cot since she could no longer sit up. Logan tended to her wounds and injuries as much as possible, with little conversation, mostly because she was unconscious for much of the duration. After the first 'interview' with Gory, she had been out of it and gasping in pain when she spoke, but she managed to relay the false information to Lev, that he believed only Gory could've given her. The second 'interview' with Gory would've resulted in her death if he hadn't been interrupted by a call from his father requesting a face-to-face meeting. Gory Sorokin was never seen or heard from again.

As soon as the field was clear after the raid, Logan went in with the rescue team and got Veronica. He didn't move from her side in the hospital for the next three weeks. When she woke up, she was disoriented and terrified and, on seeing Logan, she thought he was the person she had known and hated before she found out he was working for her side. She was angry and hateful and insisted he be removed bodily from her room.

Two weeks after that, she had recovered her memory, along with most of her physical health, and was mortified at her behavior toward Logan, but sure that it was a sign that they should finally, for god's ever-loving sake, move on. He would never be able to forgive her for not telling him she loved him and then nearly dying just as he had predicted, and she wasn't a glutton for that kind of punishment anymore.

PART THREE

The call that she was out of the hospital, back at home, memory intact, came from an unlikely source: Wallace Fennell. The text read: "V home. Changed code. U wanna c her, ur gonna have to ask her. I'm out. W." _Someday_, Logan thought, _I have to tell V the story of how Wallace and I reconnected and why he gave me her alarm code._

Logan called Veronica's cell en route to her house.

"No," she answered immediately.

"Yes," he answered, smiling uncontrollably. "I'll be at your house in ten minutes. And I'll be there until you let me in, so just save the theatrics and let me in."

"There's nothing to talk about. Thanks for saving my life. See you around the next big, bad thing we have to save the world from."

"See you in ten." Logan hung-up and practically stood on the gas pedal, weaving in and out of traffic expertly and fully prepared to whip out his federal ID if he was pulled over.

***

Veronica opened the door before he got to the front steps, walking out and pulling the door shut behind her, before crossing her arms over her chest. She was wearing jeans and a dark blue hoodie over a rust-colored tank, looking so like the Veronica he fell in love with twelve years before, it took his breath away. Her hair was short and choppy (easier to wash and take care of in the hospital), her make-up a little heavy, but hot (covering the last vestiges of the beatings she had endured), and her stance clearly said, "Go the hell away."

So Logan did what the Logan of twelve years before would've done half the time, when faced with Veronica, pissed and unwelcoming: He strode right up to her, grabbed her around the waist and brought his lips crashing down on hers, even as she tried to form the words of an angry tirade. It was a toss-up whether she would capitulate or kick his ass, but either way…

Her arms went around his neck, her tongue rediscovering his wonderful mouth, her hands running through his hair and over his broad, muscular shoulders, before she caught herself and wrenched away.

"Really, Sugarpuss? Are we done here? Cause I think you want me to come inside and…" he moved on her again, grabbing her hips and pulling her up against him, "_cum inside_. But I have a few rules."

"Like?" she glared at him, but didn't pull away, and he could've sworn he saw a slight smile at the corners of her mouth.

"Like, lots of pet names and endearments, plenty of spooning after and, we not only talk about it after, we start a joint diary and write it all down for posterity."

"Who'd want to read that?" scoffed the angelic looking demon.

"Me. The next time you dump me, it'll give me something to masturbate to," he put his hand at the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his again before she could tell him how disgusting he was. He lifted her up, feeling a thrill of arousal when she wrapped herself around him. Reaching behind her he opened the front door and took her inside, locking it before making a bee-line for her bedroom.

He set her on her feet at the side of her bed and zipped her sweatshirt off, taking time to kiss her neck thoroughly, especially that sweet little spot that always made her shiver. She had his shirt unbuttoned and off before he reached out to strip off her tank. He was interrupted in his quest to get her naked as quickly as possible, by her hot, eager mouth closing over his left nipple, circling it with her tongue until she was sending little shocks through him straight to his groin. Her hands roamed over his chest as she moved to the right side and repeated the process.

With a growl, he reached around and unclasped her bra, throwing it over his shoulder, as he tackled her onto the bed and set about returning the favor. When his mouth found her breasts, closing over her them possessively and emphatically, she sucked in her breath and arched her hips underneath him.

"Oh god, Logan, I love your mouth! You have the best mouth," she moaned. She felt him smiling around her, letting the cool air in while his tongue flicked and circled and worked at her. She stretched her arms up over her head and just let him. God it felt good to give up control for once, especially for this.

His hand slid down her side, over her stomach and between her legs. Her arms automatically came down to reach for him, encourage him, but Logan gently pushed them back.

"Just let me, Ronnie. I want to do it all for you, first. You'll get your chance if you want it, okay?" he looked into her lust-blown eyes eagerly, his need to make things right for her clearly showing. She nodded and smiled, stretching sensuously beneath him in anticipation.

He parted her legs gently and stroked her several times before sliding two long, sure fingers into her and watching her beautiful face contort and relax again with the sensation. He stroked his fingers in and out of her while his mouth ran over her stomach, her hips, her thighs, everywhere he could reach, until finally she was arching hard against his hand and panting and writhing in frustration. Then he lowered his mouth to her clit, making her gasp and begin to talk deliriously.

"Yes! Oh god, yes please don't stop I wanna cum please don't ever stop I dream about your mouth I've cum in my sleep…" When she stopped talking and her body tensed and tightened around his fingers, Logan knew she was coming and watched intently, She tipped over the edge and began to tremble and shake as she slid down the other side.

"Veronica," he whispered in her ear while she was still free falling, his hand pressing against her, keeping her going as long as possible. "I need to be inside you." She nodded emphatically and was rewarded with another earth-shattering tremor. Her arms came down around his shoulders and she kissed and licked and nibbled at his throat and chest trying to telegraph her gratitude and her needs.

Logan reached for his pants to get a condom, but she grabbed his hand. "Have you b-been with anybody since the departmental physical?" she asked breathlessly. He shook his head no, wondering if she was headed where he thought she was. "I'm on the Pill. No condom, Logan."

"Are you sure?"

"No. Condom. Logan. Just please…now!"

Taking his time to coax her body to open to him, when he was finally where he had wanted to be for so long, he stilled himself. He drank in the new sensation of being inside a woman, especially _this _woman, without a layer of latex between him and heaven. He had never asked or agreed to do this before, having a horror of bringing a child into the world through any of his sexual encounters.

But Jesus Effing Christ, what he'd been missing! Veronica moved impatiently against him, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Slow down a little, Bobcat, or this is going to be over just when it's getting good!" he kissed her hard and thoroughly and thrust into her suddenly, making her gasp against his smiling mouth. "I wish I knew how to tell you how good you feel," he murmured, beginning a slow, deep, steady rhythm

"Try," she encouraged him, needing a distraction to keep her from forcing the pace too much.

"Oh god, you feel like…you feel impossibly hot and tight, like I shouldn't be able to fit inside you and should be burning alive when I do. But it feels so goddamn good. Every nerve in my body is on edge, waiting for you, begging for you…"

They moved together at the pace he set, staring into each other's eyes, watching each other, until finally Veronica cried out in frustration, "I can't take it anymore! I don't care if it's done soon, we can do it again and again and again! Just, for god's sake, faster!"

Logan threw his head back and laughed. "Yes, ma'am!" he agreed. "Wrap those gorgeous legs around me, Bobcat! "

True to his word, Logan took her hard and fast, trying different angles and patterns until he found one that had her panting and crying out, taking handfuls of the blankets to brace herself against the onslaught . He used a stream of profanity-laced sweet talk to keep her over-stimulated.

"This is why there've only been two in so long, Ronica. What's the point if it's not me? You need _my _mouth. _My_ hands on your body. No one else can make you lose yourself, because I'm the only one who really knows you. I'm the only one who can make sure you get yourself back, Veronica. I'll fuck you mindless, and senseless, and into a quivering heap, but I'll always bring you back again."

Veronica moaned and gasped and writhed and thrust her hips up to meet him. Logan closed his eyes, willed himself to hold out a little longer as he felt her nearing orgasm and waited for her to say _something_.

"Oh! Ahhh. God, Logan, I—I want to tell—Unh! My god!"

Suddenly Logan didn't want her to talk. He thought he knew what she was going to say and he didn't want her to. Not this way.

He captured her mouth in an almost brutal, lip bruising kiss as he redoubled his efforts, slamming into her hard and fast, grinding low and hard against her as he did.

Veronica tensed, her face a study of alert anticipation, and then all thought or intention was sliding away as the tremors of release wracked her body, giving Logan permission to let himself go, too. He came with a frightening intensity and lay, still inside her, feeling the aftershocks for several minutes.

They drifted for a few minutes, sweaty and satisfied, until Veronica asked why he didn't want her to talk at the end.

"It sounded like…I'm not sure. I just didn't want you to say something you'd regret just because..."

"Because I was about to cum?"

"Yeah."

"Can I tell you now?"

He pushed up on his forearms and looked at her expectantly, maybe slightly fearfully. "Yes, of course! I mean, please!"

"It's what I should've said and should've kept on saying years ago: I love you Logan Echolls. It's sick and it's wrong, but it's right on the money. And I'm never leaving you again.'"

To Logan's deep embarrassment and Veronica's tremendous joy, Logan suddenly had tears running down his face, which he swiped at furiously, grinning from ear to ear.

"Thank God almighty! And only ten or twelve years late, I might add."

"No, I'm right on time. You were premature."

"Never!"

Two hours later, Veronica was having an intensely erotic dream, when she suddenly woke and realized that Logan was spooning her, his erection pressing against her ass insistently, his hand wrapped around her, between her legs and working hard at getting her off. Before she could clear her head enough to take action, she was coming again and Logan was kissing and nibbling her shoulder. Without a word, he conveyed to her that he wanted her on all fours, and she happily complied.

"You know what I love?" Logan asked her, his voice indicating that he hadn't been awake long, either.

Veronica laughed huskily, as he rocked against her deep and steady. "Yeah, I think I do," she breathed out.

"Well, yeah, this," he agreed, slamming into her once unexpectedly, grinning when she squealed. "But I was going to say I love how much you talk during sex now. How you were telling me what you wanted and how you felt. It's so hot."

She laughed again and the vibrations of it shot through him and made his breath hitch, but she didn't say anything yet. He kept sliding into her and out and back again, but he wondered in those few seconds if he had ruined it; made her feel self-conscious about talking. But then she slid away from him, turned and pushed him over onto his back, straddling him and sliding back down over his erection before he could form a question in his mind.

"I wanted to be able to see your face," she explained, shrugging sweetly.

He laughed loudly, his face telegraphing unexpected joy. He put his hands behind his head and grinned at her in his cockiest manner. "Look all you want, Sweet Thing. I can't blame you."

She rose on her knees, almost off of him and he grabbed her hips to pull her back down, causing both of them to vocalize their pleasure at the impact. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was just kidding. Please don't take my sunshine away!"

"Sunshine? Is that what they're calling it now?" she mused.

"No, that's what _we're_ calling it now. Fucking sunshine!"

"Okay Logan. If you're not interested in what I was going to say… Seems to me it's your voice you enjoy listening to during sex, not mine."

He made a gesture like locking his lips and stared at her intently, losing the goofiness in his excitement to hear what she would say. She seemed to think it over for a long moment, as she continued to ride him slowly and sensually.

Finally, she began, "I couldn't talk before during sex, because I was ashamed of wanting this, Logan." She rolled against him for emphasis and smiled her enjoyment of the sensation so that he could see things had changed. "It was all about shame then. I was raped, I shouldn't want sex. You were Lilly's boyfriend, I shouldn't want sex with you. I was supposed to love Duncan, I shouldn't love you," she emphasized each point with another roll of her hips, grinding against his pelvic bone to take him as deep as possible. He looked up at her, transfixed on her eyes and by their story told by her as she fucked him thoroughly. "Even after we were past all that, supposedly, what we had wasn't leading anywhere 'normal' and I thought we should be striving for that."

"Fuck normal," he said, surprised when it came out as a whisper. He brought his hips up to meet her for the first time and she gasped and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. He kept doing it and they lost themselves in the physical, forgetting to talk.

Later, as they lay sweaty and breathless on top of the nest of sheets and blankets they had created, Logan was anxious to finish the conversation. There had been far too many unfinished conversations with Veronica Mars.

"So, what's changed for you? Why aren't you ashamed anymore?"

"I grew up, I guess. And with some distance between us, I started to see all the ways I had pushed you away even when I wasn't trying. I could see that I had felt uneasy and wrong and slutty whenever I even thought about sex and that it wasn't because of you and that it wasn't healthy. So I stopped."

The abrupt end to her explanation made him laugh again.

"I love your laugh," she said, snuggling closer to his side, arm across his chest ,as he lay sprawled on his back taking up most of her bed.

"I thought you loved my mouth?"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, V. Say it loud, say it proud: Veronica Mars loves Logan Echolls' marvelous mouth on her perfect pussy!"

"Logan!" she screeched and then tickled him mercilessly until he begged forgiveness.

When they were calm and drifting again, Veronica finished the story Logan thought was already done. "I looked for you for a couple of years. Searched for any trace that you were out there somewhere. I finally came to believe that you were dead and I felt so horrendously guilty. I thought Gory had had you killed and made your body disappear so no-one would ever know for sure. And it was all my fault."

Logan pulled her close to him, speechless.

"I was recruited into the Agency and I threw my heart and soul into it. I did want to be like a machine. And I wanted to bring down Gory and his family. Somebody's always supposed to pay, right?"

"I'm so sorry…" he breathed, feeling how inadequate those words were.

"I know, but I need to get all this out so we can start from here, okay?" She felt him nod against the pillow they were sharing.

"When I walked into that restaurant and saw you sitting at Lev Sorokin's right hand, it wasn't like seeing the ghost of the boy I had loved. It was like meeting the man who murdered him. You played your part so well I couldn't even see you as the angry Logan from high school, you were just this…other. I wanted to kill you. I've hated you for so long—" she broke suddenly, shocking herself with the violent sobs tearing at her throat.

Holding her to him, he tried to absorb her pain as he absorbed the wracking sobs jolting them both. She managed to reign herself in after a couple of minutes.

Before he could speak, she put a finger on his lips. "Don't apologize anymore, Logan. If you had done anything else, you really would be dead by now. I'm glad you're as good as you are at this undercover crap. I'd like you to stay alive through the next assignment."

"Next assignment?" he asked. "You think I should stick with this?"

She was taken aback. "Don't you want to? I can't imagine doing anything else." A sudden thought made her tense up, "Are you going to ask me to quit?"

"No. I know who you are now Veronica, I'm not asking you or wanting you to change. You are unbelievably strong and smart and, god, so brave." He stroked her hair, smiling genuinely into her beautiful, upturned face.

She sighed in relief and felt muscles she didn't even know she had, relax into liquid state. "And what about you? I'm okay with whatever you want to do, I'm just curious."

He was slow in responding. "I didn't go into this as a career. I signed on for this one reason: Take Gory and his family down for good and forever. It was so open-ended and unpredictable, I guess I never thought ahead to what would come after. I know I'm not interested in going back to life among the idle rich."

"That's a big enough decision for tonight," Veronica said, kissing him sweetly on the cheek. "Let's sleep and we'll talk more tomorrow."

"Good plan, Sunshine," he replied, kissing her on top of the head.

Veronica groaned inwardly. He was going to use that mercilessly. Calling her Sunshine to make her blush and get her wet with these memories at the most inappropriate times. Yes she groaned, but there was smirk on her face.


End file.
